


The Forest Has Secrets

by TheKnit_orious



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gay Keith (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD, M/M, Magic, Orphan Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Protective Shiro (Voltron), Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Tags May Change, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2019-09-18 01:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16985721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKnit_orious/pseuds/TheKnit_orious
Summary: Lance has always been able to see things that other people couldn’t, but he’s never been able to explain it. When he was younger he’d cower at the shadows that his parents always told him weren’t there. It’s been years now, and while he still sees strange things on occasion he always comes up with a reasonable explanation. But what happens when he moves back home after college and begins to have strange dreams and sees that the shadows are even more sinister than before?*Will update rating and add tags as they are relevant





	1. Dreaming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty. I've done a lot of edits and set some things up differently than from how I started this thing. Sorry for any inconvenience but I'm back into the swing of things!!

Moonlight shone through the trees, casting ominous shadows across the forest floor. The night was clear but the forest was quiet, devoid of the sounds of animals, insects or even the wind whispering through the trees. It was eerie. Unnaturally devoid of noise… A small boy, no older than the age of eight rubbed his eyes of sleep and sat up, looking around him with a confused and scared expression on his face. He knew the forest and it’s floating lights. The forest was his friend and the creatures that would peek from behind bushes or the small winged people that would lead him to flowers. They’d accompany him as he ran through the grass, using sticks to lift large leaves and follow furry creatures through the bushes. His mom would call them his imaginary friends. He didn’t think they were so imaginary.

The little boy let himself look around the familiar space, the forest feeling...different. It made his stomach hurt and his hair stand on end. This wasn’t the forest he’d become acquainted with. This forest didn’t entice him, it scared him. The lights of his backyard porch filtered through the trees, visible, but just barely. It was a blurry speck in the distance.

“Laaance!” A woman called out, panic evident in her voice. His mother! Lance was pulled out of his thoughts as he rubbed his arm, shivering in the cold. Hoisting himself to his feet, he scrunched up his face as the damp earth chilled his feet and mud seeped in between his toes. What was he doing out here? How did he get here?

“Lance! Baby, where are you!” He heard his mother, her shrill cry more frantic than before.

Lance tried to call out but found his voice stuck in his throat. His chest felt tight, crushed under the weight of the night surrounding him.

“M-Mama…” He whimpered, shivering violently now. It wasn’t because of the cold though. Oh no, it was much more than that. He felt something was wrong...something evil was sapping the warmth from his body and every second was an agonizing reminder that he was small and weak, completely at the mercy of whatever misfortune decided to happen upon him. Wide blue eyes filled with tears as he slowly turned his head, peering into the darkness. The shadows seemed more animated now, twisting in front of him, slowly forming into a writhing mass with glowing yellow eyes. Lance was paralyzed, unable to move even as the mass of shadows launched itself in his direction.

He finally found enough air in his lungs to scream.  
________________________________________________________________________

Lance jolted forward, sweat pouring down his forehead as he grabbed his chest. His eyes darted across his room in a panicked motion, relief flooding his body as he realized he was in bed. He sighed, trying to calm the harsh beating of his chest as he relaxed against the headboard.

‘A childhood memory?” Lance thought to himself. When he was a child, Lance was prone to sleepwalking and ended up in the woods one night. It hadn't been a great evening: The door was wide open and his mother had been convinced there was a break in. The cops were called and they eventually found Lance, crying and stumbling through the woods trying to get back home. It was an incident that actually spurred his mother to take him to therapy for his sleepwalking habits. He remembered being afraid when he realized he'd wandered away from his house and he remembered being afraid of the dark, but everything else faded from there. Even through the sudden adrenaline coursing through his body, Lance grasped at the memory of the dream. It slipped through his fingers like smoke leaving him with an unfamiliar feeling of dread.

The man didn’t have much time to dwell on it as his phone began to ring.

Squinting in the low light he grabbed at the phone sitting on his nightstand.

“Hello?” He let out, voice gravelly.

“Lance! Did you forget about breakfast? Lisa is going to leave soon and mom keeps asking where you are!”

The man looked at the clock on his bedside, a sliver of guilt going through him. He decided to play it off.

“What? No! Of course not Marco- I could never-”

“Pfffft, liar. Look, just get here soon and don’t take an hour to get ready this time!” His brother chastised him before hanging up. Lance collapsed in his bed, letting out a long-winded sigh.

Standing up he picked a shirt off of the floor, giving it a sniff before deciding it was clean enough to wear. He made his way to the bathroom, going through his morning routine. The dream still invaded his mind though. It was uncanny. Weird. He hadn’t had dreams like that in a while.

'It's just a memory, nothing else...' He thought to himself, shaking his head a little bit he dabbed his face dry and smoothed out his chilled skin with moisturizer. He could reminisce all day about his childhood memories but that didn’t get him any closer to getting out the door. Slipping on shoes and grabbing his keys Lance made his way out of his small apartment. When Lance got to his mother’s house he didn’t bother knocking, bounding up the porch and strolling right in while kicking his shoes off in one swift motion.

“Sorry I’m late! I didn’t hear my alarm go off!”

A young woman poked her head around the archway of the kitchen, rolling her eyes in a bemused fashion “Mhmm…” She let out dramatically.

There was a laugh behind him and Lance eyed his other sister, Rachel, as she walked past him. “You’re always late to everything, I don’t even know how you come up with so many excuses,” Rachel commented. “Do you have a little book you write down all your stuff in?” She teased.

“Hey, when you’re this caliber of gorgeous it takes time to to get prepared for everyone else. This kind of face doesn’t just happen overnight. ” Lance shot back, following suit into the kitchen.

The rest of the family was gathered around the dining table, Lisa feeding her 3-year-old daughter in a highchair and everyone else talking amongst themselves. Lance’s mother was in the kitchen, employing Luis for help as she finished the huge meal. She turned her head, hearing Lance and Rachel come in through the archway.

“Ooooh! hows my college graduate doing this morning?” She asked, giving Lance a bright smile that was full to the brim with pride. He couldn’t help but return it. His mother was the definition of doting; if he looked up that word in the English dictionary Lance had no doubt her picture would be right there in the description. On the counter was a plate stacked high with bacon.

“Hungry?” He said, stealing a piece.

“Hey! Don’t go eating it all- you know better to eat before everyone else. Put it on the table!” She scolded, not unkindly and pointing a wooden spoon at him.

“Okay, okay! Sorry Mom!” Lance giggled, ducking out of the way before his mother could whack him. He raised an eyebrow as he heard her curse in Spanish under her breath, hesitating as he passed the threshold of the kitchen. “I didn’t realize we were so low on eggs! Lance, can you go get some from the store quickly?”

“Can’t we have breakfast without them?” He asked, quirking his lips.

“No! It’s the only thing Sylvio will eat without throwing a fit and I don’t feel like dealing with a tantrum this morning. You were late anyway! Please?” She asked, casting Lance a slightly worried expression. It was clear she was a little stressed and Lance felt guilt settled itself in his chest. She _had_ just spent all of yesterday cooking and planning and cleaning for his coming home party.

“Okay,” Lance conceded, expression softening. “I’ll be back soon.” He replied, sneaking another piece of bacon while placing it on the table.

“Hurry! The rest is done and Lisa and Luis have to leave in a couple of hours!”

Hopping in his little car again he rolled down his window, pop tunes flowing from the radio and the cool breeze brushing his hair back. The summer sun shone cheerfully through the valley, idyllic and calm. The town they lived in was sizable enough to have a big brand grocery store but close-knit enough to have a lot of supported local businesses. A few would pop up now and again- pastry stores, pawn shops, and plenty of cafes. As Lance drove through downtown he contemplated how much he’d missed the cute little shops over the year he’d been gone.

Once Lance arrived at the store he immediately headed towards the eggs and dairy section, finding himself looking over his options and picking a stack of bulk eggs to put in his basket. On his way to the register he felt drawn to the snack aisle. While he was there, right? He had a little extra pocket change from traveling, a bag of chips couldn't hurt. Turning the corner he nearly crashed into someone, barely catching himself. From the looks of it the other man had barely caught himself as well. Lance was going to say something, an apology maybe, but looking down he was met with the most beautiful pair of eyes he’d ever seen. They were a silvery dark gray, moody but piercing with an underlying ferocity to them. They were also glaring at him. Lance floundered like a fish, nearly falling backward as he took a kick step back.

“Watch where you’re going.” The dark haired man grumbled, skirting around him.

Lance hesitated, still a bit taken aback and his throat dry. That...that’s not how you greet someone at all! He felt pettiness rear its ugly head. Before he even realized what he was saying he exclaimed, definitely too loudly for being in a grocery store, “Maybe you should be the one to watch out next time, Mullet head!”

‘Smooth Lance. You could win this years top insult prize with that one…’ He thought sourly to himself as he glared at the back of the strangers head. Lance narrowed his eyes as he earned a glance back, eyebrows raised. A quick turn into the aisle and he was out of sight, red-faced and more than a little annoyed.

He eventually made it back with the eggs and enjoyed breakfast with the rest of his family. He bid his brother and sister goodbye, giving his nephew and niece a hug as they packed themselves into the car. After Lance had earned his associates in writing his mother had insisted upon celebrating with the whole family. He maintained the mantra that it was no big deal; only an associates degree and in a pretty useless field at that! He wasn’t even the first in his family to graduate. Eventually, the excitement calmed down. It was only a couple of more days before the house was cleared of the rest of the family and the only child left in the house was Lance’s brother Micheal. It was a bit quieter and less chaotic, and while a part of Lance was a little relieved he sometimes missed all of the noise and clammer his siblings would make. Now that they were all adults it only made sense most of them were out of the house and living their own lives. A few still lived in town like he did but Rachel and a lot of his cousin’s lived a few states away. It was weird to finally be home but still feel homesick.

Lance settled into his childhood home with ease, almost dreading going back to his lonely apartment for the night. He stayed long after Lisa and the rest left and his mother was more than happy to take advantage of him to do chores around the house. It was a familiar routine to last year when he’d actually stayed at the house. He almost moved back in this summer but he thought it was time for his own place. He'd probably get a job somewhere- maybe at that café that he'd seen while driving. He was familiar with a couple of the people here, he was sure one would hire him back. Lance didn't know what he was going to do this next school year and the thought plagued him the rest of the night. Was he going to go back to college out of state or would he opt for the one here? What would he even go for? Would he just advance his current one? The future was uncertain for him, but he took comfort in the familiarity of his home town. It did feel a little off though. Not just getting his own apartment, but the environment. Everything around him felt different and he didn’t know why. The town, the air...the forest. It surrounded the town fairly snuggly, stretching for miles to the coast on one side and thinning out as a nearby city stood its ground to the east.

He had a tiny porch with a sliding glass door that gave way to a sparse yard and the expanse of tall birches, aspens, and evergreens. It filtered light peacefully during sunset and Lance had to admit that despite the size and crumbling brick walls outside of the complex it was scenic. Lance usually liked to drink a cup of tea before nightfall, rocking in the old seat on his mom had given him as a housewarming gift. Lately though, the feeling of nightfall felt a little too sinister for Lance’s liking. Maybe he was freaked out from the dream he had? And he’d been having it a lot- almost every night since the first night he’d moved in. It left him floundering through his blankets, sweating and out of breath with little memory of what had happened. It was a routine torture. At least until one night where his mind seemed to wander away from him. He was looking at a familiar face, one he couldn’t quite place at first, but he recognized the eyes. The man was just...sitting. Leaning into something with a book on his lap, eyes lazily darting across the page. Lance blinked in confusion, a hazy sheet of fog covering his vision as he looked around.

He couldn’t distinguish very many shapes. Maybe a bookshelf? A desk? It was like looking at his surroundings through fogged glass. The sound of a page turning caught his attention again and he stared at the man in front of him, taking a tentative step forward. The soft sound of his footsteps seemed to catch the mystery man’s attention and he looked up, eye furrowing in confusion as he leaned forward. He was looking at where Lance was but he wasn’t looking at Lance, more like through him. Lance didn’t wake up with a start that morning, but rather he woke up confused and a little flustered.

Why was he dreaming about that rude guy he’d met at the grocery store?


	2. Awakening

“So you guy aren’t coming down until next month?” Lance asked dejectedly, slumping in his chair. His laptop had a video chat open, showing a lab behind Hunk. Pidge was somewhere off in the background, occasionally shifting in and out of the screen while shouting commentary on bits and pieces of the conversation.

“Yeeeah- sorry man. But Pidge and I got a great opportunity and the professor convinced the school to let us stay for part of the summer for an independent study. We get the lab all to ourselves!” Hunk exclaimed excitedly.

“It’s usually too crowded for me to do my work, so this is fantastic!” Pidge piped up, twirling in her chair to show off the device she was carrying.

“Your space just has a bunch of junk on it- and it always overflows into my space!” Hunk replied, frowning. “I’m just glad I can move to a workbench two spaces away from her,” he added, eyes shifting to Lance again.

“Oh shush- Lance look at him!” Pidge exclaimed, pushing Hunk to the side. Lance leaned forward, peering at the screen and furrowing his eyebrow. She seemed to be holding a rough looking piece of triangular metal.

“Erm...yeah! It’s definitely a thing…” He let out, trying to sound impressed.

“I call him rover!” She said, beaming with pride.

“He’s a modified drone that I spruced up with an ultra light carbon fiber composite base and a totally new system rehaul! It’s pretty small so it can fit in a lot of tight places and…” She splayed her hands out, the drone lighting up with green LED’s. “I’ve installed the rotors on the bottom protected by this little plastic lip so that the blades can’t be damaged during flight!”

The drone made a loud “zoom,” noise, the motor spinning the fan on the bottom and making the device hover in Pidge’s hand. “It’s gonna take a minute to actually get it to be maneuverable. The only thing it can do is hover and fly up and down about a foot or so before it...well, crashes. I can install 180 degree cameras easy and with all this extra time we have I’m like eighty percent sure I can get it in a usable state by the time we have to leave here. I’m thinking about building another that’s a bit more sleek and maybe reworking the rotor position so it can have a full directional range of flight. I’m working on a spacial awareness system right now and I’m thinking I can program a Fitbit with a tracker so It’ll just follow me around. Kind of like a pet except I don’t have to feed it or clean up its shit.”

“Wow, that’s actually kind of neat," Lance replied, smiling. "I’m really bummed you guys won’t be coming until July though. You’re really gonna let me be here all alone?” He asked, pouting.

“You’ve got Marco.” Hunk stated.

“You could have moved back in with your parents.” Pidge chimed in.

“Yeah, but I actually wanted to get a place of my own and all Marco likes to do is sit in his room and program stuff. You guys do that too but at least you’ll go out with me! I need sun! Fresh air! This apartment is great but it’s small and boooring!” Lance whined. He’d originally called Hunk in hopes of telling him about his strange dreams, but since Pidge was there he lost the motivation to blab about it. It wasn’t that Lance didn’t trust or dislike Pidge, but Lance felt like Hunk could probably comfort him better without making fun of him. That and he would never hear the end of it if Pidge heard he was dreaming about a random stranger.

It was odd. He’d sometimes have dreams about being lost in the forest, sinister eyes chasing him and then...he’d be watching the mystery man. The dream was never anything special. Actually, if Lance thought about it the entire thing was a little creepy, but it was as if he was meeting him again; his appearance was crystal clear to the last detail he’d glimpsed of him. The only dreams he remembered cleary. Lance was pretty sure that wasn’t normal, especially since his only interaction with him was at the store and A) The man was being pretty rude and B) Lance knew absolutely nothing about him.

“We’ll be there before you know it! Just don’t die of boredom.” Hunk assured him, giving Lance one of his warm smiles. It was clear he wanted to visit too. Besides, Lance should be happy for him, not complaining about having no friends. It was the least he could do.

“Yeah. Get a job or something.” Pidge chimed.

Defeated, Lance nodded. “Yeah, fiiiine.” He grumbled. “You guys better make all this waiting worth it though. All three of us are immediately going to the lake when you get here. You got that?” He more or less demanded, pointing a finger at the camera.

“Sounds great- anyway, we gotta go. I was working on something kind important and I want to get back to it before I lose all the ideas I had.” Hunk said. “Tell your mom Pidge and I said hi and that we’re looking forward to her tamales!”

“Yeah,” Lance said, waving goodbye. The screen went blank and Lance let his shoulders slump.

“I will.” He added, talking to no one. He slouched in his chair again, drumming his fingers on the plastic armrests. The room was quiet now, something Lance was growing to hate. Living alone had its perks, don’t get him wrong, but the novelty of being able to walk around naked in his own space had worn off after the first couple of days. After a couple of minutes dwelling in self-pity he got up, slipping on his socks and sneakers and stuffing his wallet in his pants. Isolation was an awful feeling. Maybe Pidge was right, he _would_ go get a job.

Downtown was moderately busy for a Monday afternoon, families walking up and down the sidewalk and couples holding hands. He always found himself jealous whenever he saw couples having cute coffee dates or saw girls in wide-brimmed hats and sundresses. Why couldn’t he have a cute date like that? He was a perfectly dateable guy! As far as his love life went Lance's was pretty dry. He'd tried dating a girl near the end of high school but they broke it off when he moved out of state. College wasn't any better either: The guy he'd dated for a month ended up cheating on him with some rando at a party. He’d been slightly hopeful but Lance's dating game had died ever since. There was nothing like finding his boyfriend lip-locked with another dude to kill the romance.

He fanned himself with the folder he was holding. He had to stop by the local library to print off some resumes, reminding him of a need for a new printer. Ironically enough right before finals Lance’s little cheap one had decided to die on him. He popped into a local cafe, greeted with a bright smile and the familiar face of the owner. He was optimistic at first.

“I’ll have to put your in the pile, I have a LOT of applicants this summer. I’ll give you a call if you get the job, okay?” The owner stated. Lance couldn’t help but feel like he’d already been rejected. Getting an iced coffee on his way out he stopped by various other stores, chatting up managers and employees.

See, it was easy to get a job in a big city for the most part. Most of the time you didn’t even need to pop in for a visit, you just fill out an application online and wait. However, in a smaller town like this Lance had been conditioned to actually go out to greet people. In this kind of place hitting the pavement mattered; businesses talked with other businesses and people also knew faces. When they knew your face they were more likely to hire you and it was at this that Lance excelled.

People knew him, and more often than not people were happy to know him. Going from shop to shop was a breeze. Especially in the summer. It had always been his favorite time of year. Compared to everything else it was relatively carefree. He got to come home, see his family, have fun trips at the lake, hang out with Hunk and Pidge. Except now he couldn’t do that last bit...

Looking through the windows of another shop Lance nearly bypassed a window. That was until he saw _him_ again. Screeching to a halt and pack peddling Lance couldn’t help but stare at the familiar man through the window. He was as clear as he had been in his dreams; creamy skin and black hair. Lance felt his palms begin to sweat.

“No. You are not going to go in there to ‘drop off an application’ just so you can have a chance to talk to him again.” Lance thought to himself. And that’s how he ended up in the store, “dropping off an application” so he could have the chance to talk to him again.

Lance felt like the embodiment of a text post labeled, “You dumb bitch.”

Upon further inspection, the shop seemed a little too much on the “hippy,” side for Lance’s taste. There were incense, dried herbs and plants, and at every turn there was some kind of crystal sitting on a shelf, it’s shine begging for it to be picked up. The shop was medium sized, open at the front and bookshelves in the back containing “incantations,” and “spells.” Lance thought it was a little ridiculous in his opinion and turned a blue crystal in his hand for inspection. Although, some of the stuff was kind of cool looking.

The man made his way to the front of the counter looking at a glass box containing jewelry and other miscellaneous items like rainbow butterfly knives and tiny fragile glass animals. Lance looked at the assortment of wire-wrapped crystal necklaces, thinking that they were actually kind of pretty.

“Hey there, can I help you with anything?”

He looked up, face to face with his literal dream boy. The man held a neutral expression and Lance had to wonder if the man remembered him or not. Surely he would, right?

“Uh…” Lance let out, words failing him for a second. “I um… looking for job.” He said, his tongue twisting in his mouth. His eyes lingered on the man's face, darting between him and the folder he held before having the sense to actually pull out his resume.

“Oh, ok. I don’t know if we’re looking for any help at this point but I can go talk to the owner if you’d like?” The man at the counter asked, reaching for Lance's resume.

“Uh, yeah,” Lance said. He wasn’t really paying attention to anything other than trying to steady his shaking breathing. Why was he so worked up about this?

“Say...You wouldn’t happen to remember me from the store, would you?” Lance blurted before he could stop himself.

The man blinked, expression confused. “What?” He asked.

Lance could feel the bloom of embarrassment in his chest, but he’d already started the line of questioning and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to power through the hole he’d started digging for himself!

“Y’now...Like we bumped into each other, you were rude, I said you had a mullet, you didn’t respond…” Lance continued, waving a hand casually, an unsteady smile settling itself on his face. What was he even doing? He was met by another stare, gray eyes squinting at him.

“No…” The man finally answered, clearly weirded out as he put the resume underneath the counter of the cash register. “Should I?”

Lance stared at him, an awkward, heavy silence descending upon them. “Well, no, but uh…” God, what did he do now? Did he run? Did he continue? What was even the point of this? Why, why, why did he think this was a good idea?

“Is everything okay here Keith?” Another man asked, walking up from behind the counter. He was an Asian man in his mid-twenties, a startling white strip of hair streaking itself through his bangs and with eyes that were significantly darker than the ones of the man standing next to him. Keith. The name was like a breath of fresh air- a weight off of his shoulders. At least Lance finally had a name to attach to his face!

“Maybe you can take care of him,” Keith said, glaring at Lance. Lance returned the look by trying to look as annoyed. The Asian man exchanged a worried look between them.

“Alright. Just go ahead and take a breather in the back.” He said, Keith already seeming to be on it. The man met Lance's eyes, holding out an arm. Actually, holding out his only arm. Lance hadn’t realized it before but the man was missing what seemed to be his entire right appendage. He had to catch himself from rudely staring.

“My names Shiro, the owner. Is everything okay?” He asked. Lance cleared his throat softly and began to speak, clasping his fingers around Shiro’s. He had a firm grip, and for just a few seconds it seemed that time stilled around Lance. His voice cut off before he could get a syllable out. There was an energy pulsing through his body. A low thrum resounding in his ears, like the crash of the ocean against a rocky shore. His skin felt tingly, catching him off guard and making him withdraw his hand suddenly. It was almost like he’d been shocked.

An awkward pause as Shiro stared at him, eyes widening just the slightest it.

“Yeah! Yeah, everything is totally fine! I was just about to leave actually, dropped off a resume but I heard you weren’t really looking for anyone to hire. So uh-” Lance backed up into a rack of scarves, catching the falling pole and righting it. “Bye!” Lance darted out of the doorway, ignoring how the other man called after him and leaving the shop behind.

After he got a couple of blocks away he pulled out his left hand, running it through his hair restlessly before staring at it intently. That hadn’t been his imagination, had it? It felt like a sort of...Well, he didn’t know how to explain it. Something seemed to awaken inside of him for just a split second, and it was furious but calming all at the same time. He felt like he was being swallowed. It reminded him of when he woke up from his dreams, but more intense. Returning home he shut the door behind him, staring into the dim light of his nearly empty living room.

The experience stayed with him all day and as he wound down for the night he decided to draw himself a hot bath. A little pampering always put him at ease; in Lance's mind there wasn’t anything bath salts, lavender oil, and bubble bath couldn’t fix! He sighed as he lowered himself into the half full tub, too impatient to wait. It was skin tingling hot, just the way he liked it. Tension eased it’s way out of his body. The water was soothing, foam climbing higher with the running faucet.

Staring up at the ceiling, Lance mulled over the days events, taking a deep breath in and out. He could feel his eyelids getting heavier as he let the embrace of the water relax him. He could sit in the tub all day if we was being honest with himself. Lance felt light for the first time today, the gentle lull of the facet reminding him of the sound of lapping water on a rocky shore. A bath was great but the lake was better. It meant he could be enveloped into the water fully, relaxed and weightless into a peaceful lull. Some days he wished he could even breathe underwater, just to get that glorious feeling of uninterrupted weightlessness. He tapped the facted with his foot, shutting it off and leaving nothing but the faint sound of bubbles slowly popping.

He didn’t know how long he was in the tub for but he dozed off, peaceful and sleepy. He didn’t dream but instead was roused by the sound of water trickling onto the tile. He felt a sense of relief in that moment, like a built up pressure was being released, but as conscience creeped around the edges of his brain his eyes shot open. He was almost completely submerged from the neck down, having slumped into the curve of the tub and rivets of water overflowed over the lip. Lance sat up quickly, his movement making a wave of water splash onto the floor.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, reaching for the facet in his panic and essentially soaking the floor further. He forgot to turn it off! Except...he hadn’t. Lance held onto the handle, owlish eyes staring at the “off,” position.

“Wha…?” He let out, gazing at the bathroom floor. The water in the tub was full to the brim, threatening to spill over with every movement Lance made and the floor was completely flooded.

“What the fuck?” He hissed under his breath, moving as slowly as possible to undrain the tub. After trying to contemplate what had happened and the water had drained a bit he finally got out, wrinkling his nose at the feeling of the soaked mat between his toes. Trying to clean everything up as quickly as he could, Lance squeezed the bathmat out in the tub and used his towel to throw on the floor before going to find more. He went through every available towel in the house before he managed to clean up all the water, scrounging through closets and laundry bins. Some of it had even trickled outside of the door! He put all the sopping wet towels in the wash, each of them falling in with a “squish,” sound.

While he was cleaning Lance was internally freaking out and trying to come up with an explanation as to how all of the water had accumulated. “Did it come back up from the pipes? No that’s dumb. I know I turned the faucet off! Maybe it was leaking? How long was I asleep for?”

Lance checked his phone, even more confused. “It’s only been ten minutes, there's no way a little leak could make the tub that full.” He mumbled, talking to himself. Throwing on his pajamas he sat at his desk, fiddling with his keyboard. As dumb as it was he even looked up probably causes.

“Water all over floor...no. I don’t have a well...shit…” He hissed, rubbing a tired eye.

It didn’t make any sense. Frustrated, Lance committed himself to thinking that it was just a mistake. He couldn’t shake this new feeling inside of him though, twisting and turning. It almost felt as if it might bubble up the the surface. Labeling it as panic Lance pushed it down, content in ignoring it. There was absolutely nothing to worry about.

 


	3. sickness

A day went by as normal. Lance got up, cleaned his house, screwed around, walked outside. He didn’t go downtown that day. Another day went by. Monotony. He felt tired waking up. Walking around the house was a chore in itself. When he went over to his mother's house for lunch his brother noticed a change almost immediately.

“Hey man, you feeling okay?” Marco asked, leaning in while they were doing dishes after eating.

Lance blinked at him, clearing his throat. “Yeah, Just didn’t get enough sleep last night.” He said, shooting him a reassuring smile. Marco quirked his lips, gaze ghosting over the heavy bags under Lance’s eyes.

“Then go take a nap or something.” He said, trying to shoo Lance off. He happily conceded, throwing his hands up.

“Well if you want to finish the dishes, be my guest.” He said, drying off his hands. His tone was humorous, but he was relieved at Marco’s sudden kindness.

As the week continued Lance began feeling worse and worse. First fatigue, and then headaches. After that stomach cramps. Had he eaten something bad? He went through the day, brushing it off. Lance? Sick? No. He was great. Fit. Healthy as a horse with an immune system of steel! Normal. Fine. Everything was fine.

Except, only a day after that line of thinking Lance concluded everything was  **not** fine. Everything was actually the opposite of fine because Lance was curled up in bed, running the worst fever he’d had since the flu outbreak his senior year and despite the fact his face was flushed and sweaty he was shivering like a leaf in autumn. He couldn’t call anyone. Mom was at work. Dad too. Marco was nowhere to be found. Lance crawled out of bed with effort, slipping on his a button up nightshirt and making his way to the bathroom.

He cursed as a search of the medical cabinet turned up empty. He reluctantly grabbed his keys, slipping on a pullover sweater as more chills racked his body. His body hurt even more today, the sunlight nearly blinding him as he stepped out of the door and his temples pulsing in sudden pain. He gasped, pressing his fingers into his eyes as he worked up the strength to get into the car and drive to the store.

That’s how he found himself in the cold and flu aisle, squinting at the array of medicines and sprays and pills. In no mood to be standing, at all, Lance quickly decided on some flu medication and some pain pills, making a path directly to the register. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through idly while he waited in line.

Someone clears their throat behind him. Lance looked back, mentally cursing his bad luck. It was Keith. Again. How did he keep running into this guy? Lance stood a little straighter, ready to shoot back some remark but Keith simply motioned with his hand.

“You’re next in line.” He stated, an edge of annoyance in his voice a little softer than last time. Lance looked forward, frowning.

“Oh. Sorry.” He let out, voice hoarse. He stepped forward handing the cashier his items and pulling out his wallet. There was a distinct feeling of eyes watching every movement. Lance glanced back just in time to see Keith move his head slightly, eyes darting to a random item on the shelf next to him.

“What?” Lance let out, voice cracking.

Keith quirked his lips, feigning ignorance. “Nothing.”

“ _ I don’t have time to deal with this. _ ” Lance thought to himself, sighing and thanking the cashier as he left. Back home he squeezed himself into bed. He dozed on and off throughout the day, not able to get any real sleep but able to zone out long enough for a few minutes at a time so his body didn’t hurt as bad. It was only a matter of time before his mother found him in his wrecked state.

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh honey- I think we might have to go to the hospital. You’re running at a hundred and three!” She said, pulling away from the thermometer. Lance absently thought about all of the times he got annoyed at his mother for being too overzealous with him whenever he got hurt. There had been soccer, with every scraped knee a reason to have Lance “relax” and “recover” by sitting on the couch and watching her cheesy soap operas. Then there had been football (that didn’t last long), and gymnastics, and swimming. Every time Lance got sick with a cold or flu his mom was right there, showing some kind of soup in his face and letting him curl up with her favorite fluffy blanket. Right now there was nothing in the world that could match the relief that was his mothers smothering. Sure, he might have been a bit of a baby when he got sick but this was by far the worst experience he’d had.

“What? No! Please don’t take me to the hospital!” Lance whined, still not feeling warm enough. His mother had piled on a thick stack of blankets, placing an ice pack over his head.

“Well if this fever doesn’t break by tomorrow at least or gets worse we’re going to have to.” She said sternly, wiping off the thermometer. “I’ll make you some soup- are you sure you don’t want to come stay at my house honey?”

“No- it’s okay mom.” Lance insisted, trying to give her a reassuring smile.

“But Lance...”

“I’ll call you in the morning and if I still don’t feel better then we can go to the hospital, okay?” He said

She bit at her lip, her face pulled into a more intense expression of worry. “Well, okay. I’m going to go ahead and stop by after I get done making you something though, okay sweetheart?”

With that she was gone, the front door shutting with a ‘thwomp.’ Lance looked at Marco who was seated in his computer chair, staring at him.

“What?” Lance croaked out.

“You seriously look like shit bro.” Marco answered, his eyebrows drooping. “Like...really bad. Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” He asked, tilting his head.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Lance snapped, irritable. He peddled back at the slightly hurt look his brother gave him. “No- look, I’m sorry. I just want to see if this blows over is all. Okay?” Lance said, softening his expression. His brother nodded.

“Okay. Just don’t push it?” He asked, following their mother. Lance managed to get a small nap in, his head feeling like a hammer was trying to split it open. His limbs burned in protest as he sat up, taking a hot bowl in his hands as his mother made good on her promise of food. She explained that she left him a good amount in the fridge as well. Finally, something that felt warm! He left the bowl on his desk, falling asleep almost immediately. He drifted in and out of consciousness, his body switching between hot flashes and chills that left him shaking violently.

He’d occasionally twiddle on his phone, sending messages to Hunk and Pidge. Lance complained about being sick. Pidge calling him a big baby until he sent her a picture. There was a delay in response before she sent back: “...Wow. You actually look like shit rn.”

He eventually got too tired to talk and stuffed his phone in his pajama pockets, figuring he’d be woken up by the buzz if he got a message. The pain in his head only got worse, but he bared through it, trying not to worry his mother too much as she checked on him for the last time that night before going back home. Despite everyone's best efforts nothing seemed to be working.

He dreamt for the first time since feeling sick. Lance was in the forest, leaves and small twigs crunching underneath his feet. Everything was blurry, the full moon casting dim light and making the forest an eerie shade of blue. There was somewhere he needed to go...something to get to… He moved with a sense of purpose. Like someone on a mission but he didn’t actually know what his mission was. The twinkly light of fireflies made everything look dreamy and muddled, and he looked around himself, enraptured but confused. What was he doing out here? Had he ever gone this deep into the forest before? The trees whizzed past him in a blur, as if he were passing them by without noticing they were actually there. A noise behind him made the hair on his neck stand up, a low and slow growl…

Lance looked over his shoulder, hands balled up into fists. Taking a hurried step forward he tripped on a root sticking up from the ground. Jolting awake Lance coughed, wiping his face of...mud?

“Wha…?” He let out, disoriented and bewildered. He looked around feverishly, wiping his eyes of sleep.

“Forest...why am I in the f-forest?” He whispered, chills going through his body. The summer air was usually pleasant but with the chill running through his body it felt ice cold. He rubbed the sides of his arms, trying to figure out how he’d gotten here and still trying to wrap his head around the situation. Another growl had him whipping his head around, heart beating against his ribcage and blood rushing through his ears.

Lance stood up, leaning against a tree for stability before beginning to walk again. He didn’t know what to do- he didn’t know which way home was. Was he still dreaming? This had to be a dream right?

“This would be a...a great time to wake up now!” Lance laughed, his smile panicked. Okay. Think. How big are these woods anyway? He was bound to run into a house or into town or something. It’s not like they’re gigantic or anything. Ok, scratch that, they were pretty big.

The loud noise of a stick cracking had his feet moving faster, breath coming out in small puffs now as he speed-walked through the forest. “Think Lance, just think!” He begged himself, eyes darting around the shadows of the trees. Another closer, louder screech had him dead sprinting. He could hear it, whatever it was, chasing after him now. The creature wasn’t interested in hiding itself anymore, heavy footsteps kicking up dirt and leaves as it chased after the man. Lance turned a corner at a large tree, nearly stumbling again. He heard the splintering crack of wood and chanced a look back as splinters went flying! The creature gained it’s footing again and continued its pursuit.

Lance couldn’t even make out what it was! Just a writhing mass with yellow eyes and a screech so bone-chilling he only knew he had to get away. Just like his dreams. He felt so weak. Fatigued with his sickness and a headache so severe now he couldn’t see straight. Splotches of white flooded his vision once and awhile, hindering his progress. His legs carried him as fast as they could, but to Lance’s horror, he felt his knees give buckle, pushing him to the ground once more.

No, no,no- he couldn’t leave himself at the mercy of this mysterious creature. Not like this! Not in a forest alone with no one knowing where he was! Lance looked back at the creature, heart leaping into his throat and breathing so hard it made his chest hurt. He wasn’t going to die. He refused. 

Lance sucked in a breath with determination and turned to look at the creature. It was still an indistinguishable mass but he could at least tell where it was moving. Lance watched closely as the creature lunged, letting out a grunt as he rolled out of the way and used a tree as leverage to pull himself back up, he skirted around it, beast plowing into it and used the shock to push himself off, running into a sprint again.

The chase continued. Lance focused on going forward rather than looking back and his heart leapt into his throat as he struggled down a steep decline, the pads of his feet bleeding as they were cut up by branches and rocks. Eventually, he slipped in the mud, yelling as he tumbled forward. He pulled his body weight toward the hillside, damp grass and leaves giving him no respite as he continued to slide. He avoided a tree, a branch scraping his cheek as he tumbled sideways and finally down a small three-foot drop. His shoulder landed on heard earth, gravel digging its way into his arms as he let out a cry of pain. He lay there for a second, adrenaline still coursing through his body as he gave himself a moment to recover. He was a little ahead of the monster now but it was only a matter of time before it caught up.

Gritting his teeth Lance sat up, looking out over the sparkling image of the lake. He used his arms to lift himself up, struggling to stand on his feet as one of his ankles throbbed. Moving closer to the shore and a bit disoriented he took in his surroundings for a split second before hearing the telltale signs of the beast. Lance started running again, slower this time. It was like a nightmare. No matter where he went this monster wouldn’t give up.

Lance let out another yelp as his ankle gave out on him. Hitting the ground he dug his fingers into the dirt, trying to lift himself up. Turning around and looking at his already swelling ankle as the beast approached in the distance he felt hopeless.

“ _ Please no…”  _ He thought, watching the creature like a deer in the headlights. He was completely defenseless. He couldn’t even run anymore, his body was screaming at him, he could feel blood dripping down his face. The beast hovered above Lance and he held out his hands above his head as if he had any chance to defend himself.

And then Lance felt something unfurl inside him- like a string that was too tight had been broken. A brilliant blue light filled the air, blinding Lance and making the creature scream in agony. It lasted for a few seconds, the sound whooshing through Lance’s ears and making his hair swirl around his face as energy coursed through his veins. It was powerful, flooding out of him like a wave and for just a split second his body was filled with a calming bliss. It wrapped around him like a warm blanket, fear ebbing from his mind and a new clarity taking its place. It felt warm and right. And then it was done. Gasping Lance slumped forward, hissing at the muscle spasms that had taken over his arms. The man held his arms, collapsing into the dirt again. He thought he heard voices in the distance, rapidly getting closer.

“...eah! Over here!” It sounded familiar. Lance couldn’t place where it had come from though. He struggled to stay awake, too fearful to fall asleep. What if something happened? His bleary eyes landed on what looked to be some kind of...remains. Black and still writhing in pain. The man hardly processed being lifted up but his eyes slipped closed through the motion. He could still hear voices, growing ever fainter as he fought against the darkness.

“Hey! Hey wa... up!...iro! Shi.. I need... over here...”

Finally, he succumbed to sleep.

 


	4. Answers

Lance heard faint noises as he slipped in and out of consciousness. He could hear people talking, leaves crunching, a door closing...He didn’t know how long he was out for but as he began to become more aware of his surroundings he could feel the slow ebb of pain winding itself through his body.

The man opened his eyes, squinting as sunlight poured into the room. Lance, still groggy, attempted to sit up, hissing at the sting of movement. He looked down at his arms, covered in bandages from his palms to his bicep. Letting out a sound of confusion, he finally looked around at the unfamiliar house he’d been placed in. It was clean and tidy; clearly someone’s bedroom. There was a desk and bookshelves lined one wall alongside a glass case containing a mix of skulls, rocks and...well Lance didn’t recognize some of these items from his position but he did recognize the bookshelf ever so slightly. He’d seen the foggy outline of it in his dreams. Other than that the room was fairly bare. It almost looked like something out of a home catalog, minimalistic and well put together. Except maybe the animal skulls. Those definitely weren’t in home catalogs.

“What the _fuck._ ” Lance hissed out, throwing his legs over the bed. He was probably going to becoming very familiar with that phrase. He discovered a myriad of bandaids on his feet in addition to a fresh pair of pajamas. His right ankle was wrapped tightly. Standing up tentatively he grunted with the exertion. Nearly collapsing onto the desk by his side, feeling weak and fatigued, a mixture of horror and curiosity settled deep in his chest as he looked at the winding criss cross of bandages encasing his arm. How many injuries did he sustain to warrant being part mummy? The thought garnered a small laugh but it was a nervous one.

Taking one end he pulled at the gauze, unraveling his wrist slightly. There were burn marks. He tugged them back more, furrowing his eyebrows as he saw the full extent of the damage. They riddled his arm, some of them scabbed over, but they looked weird; like a lightning strike.

Lance was distracted by the sound of the door creaking open and he looked up, eyes blinking owlishly like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. It was Keith. He was holding a glass of water and a fresh roll of bandages. Silence followed as they stared at each other for a few seconds.

“What are you doing?” He snapped, frowning at Lance.

Lance was at a loss for what to say for a second, too surprised to wrap his head around everything. “What the fuck…” Lance said out loud again, reeling. “Okay,” He thought to himself, trying to process everything. “I was sleepwalking through the woods. Some...thing happened, and now I’m in a room and Keith, the guy I’ve been dreaming about, is also here.”

The introspective analysis of the situation did nothing to quell his nerves or his confusion.

“Sit down- you’re not supposed to take those off you.” Keith scolded, putting the objects he was holding on the desk.

Lance quirked his eyebrows, feeling defensive. “Well- I haven’t...What’s going on?!” He asked. “And why do you keep following me?!”

Keith opened his mouth for a second, closing it and scratching his cheek. “Okay, one; I’m not following you, I don’t even know who you are, and two...” He paused, scowl deepening. “It would probably be better if Shiro explained it- did you know you were…?” He asked, gesturing to Lance.

“...know I was what?” Lance answered, becoming increasingly frustrated.

“So no. Got it.” Keith said. He pushed the glass of water towards Lance. Lance ignored it.

“Am what?” Lance pushed, agitated further with Keith’s vagueness. There was a stretch of awkward silence and the Latino man didn’t know whether to yell, cry, or bolt out the door. The third option probably wasn’t very viable. He settled for grabbing Keith by the collar of his shirt and giving him a desperate expression. “I need an explanation for all of this sleepwalking and monsters and why you of all people are here! Give me something!” He exclaimed, finally seeming to reach a breaking point. All of his life weird things have always happened to Lance- tiny creatures, ominous dreams, and worst of all the sleepwalking in the forest that always left him confused and feeling like he was missing something! He thought it was his imagination! A childhood fantasy he had trouble growing out of! Keith grabbing his wrists to try and pry him off.

“Magic! There! Is that good enough for you?! Now let me go!” Keith yelled. It only proved to make Lance both confused and more hysterical. Lance let out a tense laugh, too high pitched to actually be laced with humor.

“Are you fucking with me? Magic?!” He yelled, letting go of Keith’s collar as he recoiled, a sour smile on his face. “No. Nope!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up as he hobbled towards the door. “No, no, nononono- I’m am _leaving_! You’re crazy! All of this is crazy and this is just some other godforsaken dream a-and I’m going to go back home so that maybe I’ll be in my bed when I wake up!” He stated, opening the bedroom door. He made a choking noise as he was yanked back by the collar of his shirt.

“Oh no- you’re not going anywhere! You’re a danger to yourself and other people now!” Keith stated, attempting to get Lance back to bed. A small fight ensued, Lance struggling to make it out the door and Keith attempting to keep Lance in the room without injuring him further. By the time Shiro was in the house and turning the corner Lance was on the ground being held by his torso as Keith was trying to drag him back through the door.

“Really?” Shiro sighed, placing a bag on the kitchen counter. Both of the young men on the floor paused Lance looking more confused by the second and Keith let out a groan.

“I couldn’t just let him _go_. I tried telling him what happened and he got freaked out.” Keith said defensively.

Shiro didn’t look angry, just a bit exasperated. “I can take over from here.” He said, Keith letting go of Lance. Said man tried to get up, huffing indignantly as he put his weight on the wall.

“Look- if your explanation has anything to do with magic-”

“It does,” Shiro said, taking a step forward and holding out his hand. “Jus-”

“Well, then I’m out,” Lance replied, attempting to make his way to the front door. The way he was walking was slightly comical, one knee bent as he attempted to put as little weight as possible on his twisted ankle and his body bobbing up and down with his movement.

“Please! If you’ll just sit down we can-”

“It’s been great! But I gotta go and forget this ever happened.” Lance interrupted, trying to open the door. For some reason it wouldn’t budge. He pulled on it again, mouth set into a deep frown and glanced back at Shiro. That’s what made him pause. There was a soft purple orb in Shiro’s hand, energy swirling around in a methodical pattern. Lance felt both afraid and entranced by it, hand squeezing the doorknob tightly. That wasn’t normal. His eyes shifted between the orb in Shiro’s hand and the man’s face, eyes widening in disbelief and a rock settling in the pit of his stomach. Lance was going to be sick.

“Please. I would like to explain everything to you.” Shiro said, calm and sympathetic. Lance hesitated, mouth flopping open and closed like a fish. At this point what choice did he have? Lance let go of the doorknob, watching as both Shiro and Keith relaxed their shoulders in what could only be described as relief. Lance didn’t say anything as he made his way to the small, round kitchen table in the middle of the kitchen, sitting down and putting his hand over his mouth. Tears pricked his eyes, brought on by a combination of pain and emotion. He swallowed the lump in his throat thickly. If this was a dream it was one hell of a dewsy.

A mixture of emotions swirled through him. Disbelief and denial taking up the majority but also intrigue and nervousness. A part of him still felt like this was a dream but whatever Shiro did couldn’t be anything other than proof. Lance watched as Keith sat next to him, arms crossed and slouching against the chair. It stayed silent for a while, Lance watching in amazement as Shiro flicked his wrist, making a small pattern with the tips of his fingers. It caused the teapot to move from the stove, making it float to the sink, fill up with water, and place itself back. A small click of the stove made Lance flinch slightly in surprise. He looked back at Shiro, eyes wide.

“Let’s start with your name?” Shiro said, phrasing it as a question.

“Lance.”

“Okay.” Shiro let out, scooting his chair in and setting his arm on the table. “So you’ve seen magic is a thing that exists and it may be a bit of a shock to you but I think you have magical ability as well.” He started. His voice was soft and understanding, trying to to make Lance feel as comfortable as possible. It worked a little bit. Shiro seemed to be the kind of person who sounded so sincere in his speech that second doubting him almost felt wrong.

“Okay…” Lance let out, sucking in a breath. He tried to proceed with a more open mind, thoughts racing through his head. “What was that exactly?” He asked, clearing his throat as his voice cracked, holding out his hand in imitation of Shiro’s.

“A manifestation of my magical energy is all,” Shiro said.

“Is that...Is that what was going on in the forest? Is magic the reason why I’ve been having weird dreams?” He asked, cradling his hand in his head.

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Dreams?” He asked thoughtfully. “Well whatever dreams you’ve been having might have something to do with it, but what happened in the forest makes me certain you’re a magic user. Have you been feeling ill recently?” He asked.

Lance looked at Shiro wearily, squinting at him slightly. “Yeah actually.” Shiro nodded, as if confirming something.

“I felt a presence in you at the shop. When we shook hands.” Shiro continued. “I’m pretty good at detecting magic signatures. Were you sick before or after we met?”

“After. What does that have to do with it though?” Lance asked. Keith got up as the pot whistled softly, escalating in volume until he took it off the stove.

“I saw that you looked sick at the store and when I told Shiro he thought you might be a magician,” Keith interjected.

“Sometimes when a users magic is dormant or hidden, contact with another catalyst, or something that expels magic, can make it try to come forward.” Shiro started. “If the user tries to force it down or perhaps doesn’t realize they have it, sometimes it can make the person sick...even damage them permanently.” He explained. “Especially if it’s expelled all at once.”

A steaming cup was put in front of Lance, and another placed in front of Shiro. Lance glanced at Keith who sat down again, holding a cup of his own. “That’s why your arms got burned,” Keith added, sipping his piping hot cup with no problem.

“I know this seems scary and just completely unbelievable, but we want to help you. Not only for your sake, but you could seriously hurt people now that your magic wants to surface.”

Lance stared at the brewing tea bag in his cup, worrying at his bottom lip. “You said it _wants_ to. Is it...like a living thing?” Lance asked tentatively.

Shiro quirked his lips, rubbing the back of his neck as he stretched. Oh. _Oh_ , that was nice- this man was built like a brick house and regardless of the situation Lance would have to be an idiot to not acknowledge it.

“It’s a little more complicated than that. Magic is like...almost a separate entity but still _you_ all at the same time. It’s the truest reflection of yourself but it can be hard to fully control- especially if your affinity for a certain magic is especially chaotic.” Shiro stated. “How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-one.”

Shiro blinked, looking slightly confused. Keith squinted at Lance, looking skeptical. “There's no way. Magic surfaces when you’re a teen at the latest- not an adult. You look like you’re sixteen.” He assumed in an accusatory tone.

“Look, I’m just learning magic exists and I’m still pretty sure I’m asleep at home- why would I lie you?” Lance snapped, his own eyes meeting Keith, both unwavering as they stared at each other.

“Keith,” Shiro said, using a pretty convincing dad voice. The man leaned back in his chair, taking another sip of his tea.

“It’s okay- we believe you, Lance. It’s just unusual is all.” He said, rubbing the barely there amount of stubble on his chin. “Given the circumstances, I think it would be best if you let us work with you. Train you. At least until we’re certain you have your magic under control. It can be dangerous if you don’t keep it in check- to yourself and others.”

Lance sat there, not quite knowing what to say. He chewed at his lower lip, gripping the warm coffee cup as he contemplated. He couldn’t help but think about the tub overflowing about a week ago and it occurred to him that it was possible his own magic had been the cause. What could happen if he left it unchecked? What else could he do? The thought scared him- was it a possibility he could hurt the family around him?

“Lance?” Shiro said softly. Lance looked up at him, clearing his throat. He felt small.

“Yeah. That would probably be good.” He finally replied. Lance took a breath, letting a smile spread across his face, fueled by anxiety. “It’s kinda cool to find out I have powers.” He said, trying to sound optimistic. “It’s like I’m a superhero or something!”

Keith snorted at that, amused. “Yeah, sure.”

“What? It is! I can learn how to make stuff float or maybe- wait do I gotta use a wand like in harry potter? Think I could learn some cool tricks for parties or something?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Shiro shook his head, but it was clear the mood was sufficiently lightened. “Probably not- we don’t want anyone to know about magic. So please, no ‘magic tricks.’” He replied.

“In all seriousness though- magic isn’t something we go around telling people about for obvious reasons. Wands are optional but we’ll probably use them to help you regulate your power as your getting used to it and I don’t know if I can teach you to make things float.” He said, scooting his chair back to grab a notepad off of the counter. He started writing in it, lance shrugging.

“Okay- fine. I was joking. My mom would flip if she ever saw me doing this kind of stuff.” He mused, taking a sip of his tea. He almost spat it out as a sudden realization came to him, his eyes widening.

“Oh shit! My mom! Where’s my phone?!” He asked, reaching to his pants pockets. Oh right. He wasn’t wearing his own clothes…

“Oh, I put it on top of the dryer. Your clothes were all muddy so we washed them.” Keith replied. Lance got up, demanding how to get there. He came back, unlocking his phone and seeing his heart drop. _Twenty missed calls from Mom._ His phone was also on one percent- even if he tried calling her it’d probably die halfway through.

“Oh my god, ohmygod- my mother is probably freaking out! I have to get home and call her back! I have to let her know I’m okay! I hope she didn’t stop by today, the last time this happened the cop were called and-”

“Wait- this has been a thing for you?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I used to sleepwalk a lot when I was a kid and one night I wandered into the forest!” He quickly explained, plopping back into the kitchen chair again. “What am I even going to tell her?!” Lance hissed, running a hand through his hair.

Shiro tapped the pen on the table, getting Lance’s attention. “Well, you can just tell her the truth but leaves bits out. You were sleepwalking into the forest and we found you and let you sleep at our place because you weren’t lucid.” He said, shrugging.

Lance took a breath. He was terrible at lying to his mother but Shiro did offer a good half fib. It wouldn’t _technically_ be lying. Hell, if she didn’t stop she wouldn’t even know if he’d been gone in the first place, although the injuries would be a bit harder to explain. Lance figured he could get away with it. It wasn’t like she’d believe him if he told the truth anyway.

“Okay. That works for me. Um...I still have so many questions! Um…” He let out. There wasn’t much time to think though. He could ask more later. “Think I can get a ride home?” Lance asked. Shiro nodded, ripping the piece of paper from the notebook and handed it to him. “Yeah, let’s go ahead and get your clothes for you. Here’s mine and Keith’s numbers. We can talk about a schedule later.” He said, patting Lance on the shoulder.

The ride back was scenic. Keith and Shiro lived together a little way out of town, snuggled in the forest. It wasn’t too far away from town, but the distance had Lance wondering how long he’d been wandering the forest before becoming lucid and the thought terrified him…

He was glad to have Shiro give him a ride back; he was comforting and it seemed almost normal during their drive. Lance learned very quickly that Shiro was the kind of person that glowed with an easing aura. One that made him instantly likable and warm. He didn’t know how the other man did it. Surprisingly for Lance they stopped by the hospital, making sure his injuries were okay. Shiro did a lot of the talking and gave them some story about a hiking trip gone awry and Lance was able to get some pain meds and crutches. Shiro left lance at his house, telling him to call if he had any questions or needed anything at all.

That night Lance felt a little afraid to go to bed. Would the dreams stop now that he knew he was capable of magic? Or would they just continue, eating away at him and his sleep? As he laid down he couldn't help the fearful intrusive thoughts, but a little part of him was relieved. It was like a missing piece of him came together for him.


	5. Learning

After the incident Lance’s sickness miraculously cleared itself up. His mother was relieved and the following day was so normal Lance could almost believe last night never happened. The only thing that reminded him were his injuries. He was hobbling around on a pair of crutches idly scrolling through his laptop while eating breakfast when his phone dinged.

Keith: _ Hey, can you make it to the shop today to start training? _

Lance thought about it. Keeping this entire thing a secret from his family was going to be hard. Pidge and Hunk too. Lance had never been good at lying and with this magic business thrust into his life all of the sudden it wouldn’t make it any easier.

Lance:  _ i cant really drive. _

Lance:  _ ankle is still fucked up _

Keith:  _ I’ll just pick you up then. _

Lance raised an eyebrow. He understood that training as soon as possible would be better but did it have to be now? And why at a dusty old hippy shop? Thinking about it, the place didn’t strike Lance as a place to practice magic. That was unless the shop was  _ actually  _ a magic shop and not some trap for stoners and tourists.

_“Wait, does that mean everything in there actually works?”_ He thought to himself, idly munching on his cereal. After receiving another text asking for Lance’s address and Keith telling him he was on his way he endured the process of getting dressed. He didn’t suspect it would be this hard to be honest but every muscle in his body was sore and screaming at him to stop moving. He stepped outside, a small beat up truck pulling to the curb. Scooting into the passenger seat awkwardly Lance adjusted his crutches, closing the door as the car lurched forward.

Silence ensued.

Fiddling with his phone didn’t help the feeling of awkwardness. Not for the first time today Lance questioned the validity of last night's events. Even casting glances towards Keith, evidence of his trip into the woods, didn’t suspend his disbelief.

“What?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow. Shit, he must have been staring at him too long.

“Nothing!” Lance bit back, forcibly looking out the passenger side window with a frown.

“You just keep staring at me. It’s weird.”

Lance had to stifle a laugh. “ _ That’s _ what's weird?” He asked incredulously. “And I wasn’t staring!” He added quickly.

“Pffft, okay. Whatever you say.” Keith quipped, rolling his eyes.

The rest of the ride was silent, Lance contemplating his life the entire way to the shop. Even now he had to resist looking at Keith constantly. He’d spare glances. There was something both intriguing and puzzling about his dreams centering around the other man. Maybe it was something he could bring up to Shiro?

The flush of embarrassment at the thought of mentioning anything about his dreams had Lance thinking it was most definitely a bad idea to bring it up. Parking in a back alley and having a bit of trouble getting out of the car Lance and Keith entered through a back door, following a small, narrow hallway and into a back room area with some stock and a little table.

“Sit right there, I’ll go get Shiro.” Keith basically ordered. Lance pulled a scowl, opening his mouth but having no time to protest as Keith left before he could say anything.

“Rude,” Lance stated to no one while sitting down. Idly looking at some random things on the table he scratched at a coffee stain, bored and unimpressed. A plant hung from the wall, vines twisting down from the pot and the leaves barely grazing the surface of the old, small table. Looking up at the old ceiling dusty pipes and raftered zigzagged across the ceiling, shooting through the top of the wall into the unknown. The shelves all around him held a myriad of boxes and loose odds and ends: weird statues, crystals, various plants that were dried out or living. Scents of incense and dust were irritating to his nose. As Shiro stepped through the doorway Lance couldn’t help but think how out of place the man looked among all of these objects.

“Glad to see you made it,” Shiro said, cracking a smile. “How’s your ankle doing?”

Lance shrugged, grabbing his crutches. “Well I can’t walk on it so, you know…” He replied.

Shiro looked a little guilty at that. “Sorry, we do have to go up some stairs. Let me help you.” He said, moving towards Lance.

“No! I got it!” He replied, panicking a little. He couldn’t help the heat from rising to his face. The thought of touching Shiro made him both uncomfortable and excited, his head swirling and his heart beating fast. It was embarrassing really, and even Lance had to come to the realization he had some kind of stupid crush on his new mentor already. Shiro held up his hand, a worried expression crossing his face.

“Ok, ok. Follow me then.” He led Lance over to a door at the other end of the hall, opening it and letting the other go first. The man hobbled up the stairs skillessly, Shiro taking his crutches at some point so Lance could hop unencumbered. They reached a landing with another door and Lance pushed through it. Another medium-sized room greeted him, the windows covered in thick curtains. There were bookshelves lining the walls and other various objects sitting on shelves and bins; some even hanging from the ceiling. There was a desk against a wall, another expansive shelf above it. It wasn’t dissimilar to the actual shop. Lance couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed at the fact.

“Hmm.” He let out, quirking his lips. Curiosity filled him regardless. “So like...Do you actually do anything with all of this stuff or are you just really enthusiastic about sage and aromatherapy?”

“No, some of this stuff has it’s uses. It’s a lot easier to get these supplies in bulk and actually masquerade a magic supply store as a shop like this if that’s where you’re getting at. At least half of this stuff is useless though.” Shiro replied. Lance took it upon himself to steal the chair by the desk while Shiro appeared to be looking for something. He tapped his fingers on his leg, biting his lip impatiently.

“How common is magic exactly?” He continued.

A pause. “Not common enough to let all of humanity know about it.” Shiro stood up, holding a polished glass orb that he’d dug out of an antique looking chest. “There's not many. Probably only...I’d say a dozen or so actual magic users in this town. A lot of the time users are congregated in one place. Many like to stay where they’re born.” He held out the orb to Lance, who grabbed it curiously.

“And that’s what confused me, as far as I know neither of my parents are magic users,” Lance said, furrowing his eyebrows. “It just doesn’t make any sense.” He looked at the orb thoughtfully, snickering.

“Haha, you gonna tell me my fortune or something?” It looked normal enough. Almost. There was something about it that made it mesmerizing though. It looked solid like a pure crystal ball but the weight  suggested otherwise. Maybe it was hollow?

A laugh. “No,” Shiro replied, pulling up a stool. “It’s a type of catalyst. It helps me determine what kind of magic you’ll have an affinity for.”

Honestly, Lance didn’t even need to think too hard about it. It was obvious, wasn’t it? “I think it’s water.” He stated confidently. Shiro raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? What makes you say that?” 

“Well, a couple of days ago- right after I met you I think, I was taking a bath and accidentally fell asleep. When I woke up water was pouring out of the tub and nearly flooded my  apartment.”

Shiro nodded. “Well that’s a solid start, let’s go ahead and give it a try. I’ll show you first so please don’t drop it, these things are expensive.” Shiro let out a steady, even breath placing his hand on top of it. Slowly and gradually the orb began feeling lighter and right before Lances eyes the inside bloomed into a dark purple color. The orb lifted itself briefly from Lances fingertips as it’s color darkened, the inside swirling like smoke with bright pinpoints of light. To Lance, it almost looked like a tiny galaxy right in front of him.

Shiro cracked a smile at Lance’s look of awe. “I have an affinity for space. I can move and manipulate things when I concentrate on it.” He let the orb slowly rest back into Lance’s hands. “This is a more controlled catalyst and reacts to your magic without you having to concentrate on directing it since it just stays inside the crystal. Something like a wand would be wherever you’re aiming it.’

Lance couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face. It seemed easy enough. Just...concentrate and BAM! Magic. He could do that! “Okay, okay. So I just think about it?” He asked, eager.

“Well...not so much as think about it as focus on the energy inside of you.”

Lance nodded, staring intently at the orb. Some time passed. And then some more time.

“Nothing’s happening.” He whispered, as if afraid to break any form of focus he’d accrued while trying to summon anything from within the orb. Excitement was replaced by annoyance. He continued staring.

“Lance,” Shiro said, scratching his chin. Lance looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Why don’t you try thinking of how you felt in the forest? Or the bath?” He suggested. “What did it feel like when you used your magic for the first time?”

Lance thought about it for a minute, taking himself back to that night in the woods. The flashes of light, the monster chasing him.

“It felt…” Lance let out, trying to grasp at the feeling. “Calm. Energizing. Flowing out of me like a river.” He stated thoughtfully. Looking back to it it’d been unfamiliar, but nice. A part of the man was afraid of letting something like that out of him again but he couldn’t bring himself to admit it hadn’t been fulfilling.

“Alright then. Focus on that. Close your eyes if you need to.”  Lance did as he was told, more aware of the weight in his hands more than ever.

“Now breath.” He instructed softly. “Don’t force it- just let it flow through you like it did last time. Patience yields focus.”

Lance let himself relax for a moment, mimicking Shiro’s deep breath. “Focus on the feeling…” There was a small stretch of time where he searched, attempting to bring forth the warmness and comfort his magic had offered him in his time of need. And then he was back in the forest again. By the lake where the fresh air filled his lungs and with the damp scent of wood and sand. There was no monster this time and his bare feet slid over small pebbles as his toes dipped into the water, trudging ever deeper. The lake was like a mirror, the shape of the moon bouncing back off the reflection of the water so clearly it was like he was in the sky. Everything was so detailed it was almost tangible, as if the stars were just in reach if he simply dove into the surface of the water.

“Lance!”

The man was torn from his trance only to find a that the orb in his hand had practically become a faucet, rivets of water pouring over his hands and onto the old hardwood floor. Staring into the ball he could see bright blue swirls and rivets cascading through it’s confined space. Shiro plucked the orb from Lance’s hand, looking mildly panicked. Lance, on the other hand, was more than ecstatic.

“I did it!” He exclaimed, eyes sparkling and hands thrown up in victory. “All right! Lance McClain; first magician of the family and practically a water bender!” he shouted. He would probably be jumping up and down if it weren’t for his ankle.

“And destroyer of my hardwood floors,” Shiro added with a sigh. Lance had the decency to look at least a little guilty as he swiped his wet hands over his jeans.

“Sorry.” He let out, lips still curled into a grin.

“It’s okay, I’m really impressed at how easily you’re getting the hang of this. Water is a fairly mild element to control so I think we’re going to see a lot of improvement within the next week or so.”

The remaining couple of hours was Lance receiving a crash course in how to control his magic. At the end of the session Lance was surprised at how drained he felt, fatigue creeping into his body without him noticing. Regardless, for the first time in awhile Lance felt genuinely confident in his ability to do something. Trudging down the stairs Shiro handed him his crutches when he reached the bottom.

“If you’d like to go ahead and rest at that table, I’m just going to go get a couple of things for you really quick…” Shiro said before heading off to the front. Lance took the offer, rubbing his arm tentatively. The burn marks were still painful and his arms were still mummy wrapped from wrist to bicep. The unfamiliarity of the situation was getting to him again. His mind racing a million miles an hour. 

It was like he just got out of a university class. Shiro teaching him magic was so mundane yet it wasn’t. Sometimes Lance would catch himself easing into the thought of magic and be caught off guard. He expected to wake up any day now.

“Here, Keith gave me this.” Shiro shook Lance from his thoughts. He set down the resume he’d turned in a couple of days ago.

“If you’re seriously looking for a job I could hire you here. I’d make it easier to train you and you can learn more stuff about magic while earning a bit of money, how does that sound?” Shiro asked. Lance had all but forgotten about the resume he’d turned in and he looked at Shiro in surprise. 

“Yeah, that sounds great!” He exclaimed. Shiro looked pleased with his response.

“I also wanted to ask you about your parents. We had a lot to cover so I didn’t want to start off with it but...I think you should look into your family history a little bit.” He suggested, looking a little more serious.

“Why does it matter?” Lance asked.

“It’s just a little weird no one in your family is a magician. Magic is hereditary- it has to be passed down.” Shiro asked.

Lance hummed thoughtfully, tapping his cheek. “I could look into it yeah. Maybe I have a crazy great grandpa or something.”

Shiro nodded thoughtfully. “It’s possible magic can skip generations. Sometimes magicians are accidentally adopted by non-magic families as well which can cause a lot of issues. It’s worth looking into; you might find some insight on your heritage.” 

“That sounds good. I think I’ll do that.” Lance replied wistfully. The thought excited him. What if he DID have a cool magic using relative he didn’t know about?

“Well we should get you home. You look tired. How about we give you a day to rest and you can come in Thursday?” Shiro asked, leading Lance out of the shop.

“Can’t wait,” Lance said with a wide smile.


	6. Distress

The week that followed was full of extensive training. His ankle was doing well and he was finally able to walk on it again, albeit tentatively. Lance quickly learned that despite Shiro's initial impression he was far from the angel that he'd shown himself to be. Secretly he was a devil in disguise, drilling Lance until his arms felt like they were on fire and his body was so sore he didn’t want to get out of bed in the morning. Turns out that a lot of the training to help control his magic also included a LOT of physical exercise. 

"Please tell me again why…" Lance breathed out, grunting with the strain of his 50th sit up. Shiro was holding his legs down, encouraging him every step and making Lance want to tape his mouth shut for forever. "...I have to do all of this again!"  

The small gym they were in was relatively empty save for a few people milling about and doing their own thing. It was about eight now and Lance was looking forward to the end of their two and half hour session. 

"It's important to get physically fit so you can actually handle the energy you put out Lance. Remember how tired you were after you first used it?" Shiro answered. 

"C'mon, give me ten more!" He followed up cheerfully.

Lance gritted his teeth, doubling his efforts and finally falling backward on the mat as he finished. "Do you gotta push me like a workhorse though!? Agh!" He let out, chest burning. 

Shiro laughed. "Yes." 

He helped Lance up, giving him a pat on the back. "You're doing good though! You complain a lot less than Keith." 

"Hey, I heard that!" 

Lance snickered as Keith approached them, towel strung over his shoulder and water bottle in his hand. 

"Hey mullet head." Lance greeted. 

Keith pulled a sour face. "You're terrible at insults you know." 

"You just don't know when to appreciate genius."  

"Pffft, right. If you're a genius then I don't have very high standards to live up to." 

"Okay okay!" Shiro interjected, holding up his hand. "Less bickering, more exercise. We're almost done. Just do a cool down really quick. On the track and don’t forget to stretch." 

Lance couldn’t help it really. It wasn’t that he  _ wanted  _ to bicker with Keith but ever since he’d met Keith it put his competitiveness into overdrive. And he didn’t know why. Maybe it was because Keith was kind of a sour puss. Although, Lance was pretty sure he was the reason Keith was a sour puss. 

They started on the track, Lance uncapping his water bottle and drinking deeply. Him and Keith were walking side by side, silent. It was mildly uncomfortable. Lance walked a little faster to get ahead. And then Keith slowly found his way in front of him. Frowning, Lance capped his water bottle, quickening his pace until he was speed walking past Keith again. His ankle protested mildly but he ignored it in favor of getting ahead of Keith on the track. 

They continued their petty game. Keith would speed up and then Lance would. Eventually they were jogging, glaring at each other.

“What is your problem?” Keith panted, quickening his pace as Lance attempted to pass him. Lance didn’t know what his problem was. Maybe he wanted to be better than Keith. Maybe he wanted him to stop invading his dreams.

The realization hit Lance like a truck. He wasn’t simply harboring some weird superiority complex towards Keith. He was resentful. Keith invaded his dreams every other night and the worst part was that Lance didn’t know why and more importantly he couldn’t tell anyone. It was infuriating! 

“What? Afraid you’ll lose a little race?” Lance said instead, a cocky smirk playing across his features. It made him feel better. More confident. The question seemed to set Keith in a different mood. 

“One lap…”Keith breathed out, holding up his index finger and pointing at the line on the track. “When we reach where we started again, one lap and the last one’s gotta do inventory for the shop tomorrow,” He challenged, staring Lance down.

“Hope you’re ready to count everything Keith, cause you’re going  _ down.” _ Lance hissed. They kept pace with each other, a silent agreement in the spirit of sportsmanship. When they got to the line though they were both off like a bullet, right at each other's heels. Keith started pulling ahead, Lance’s ankle protesting in earnest this time, but he gritted his teeth, using his long legs to help carry him forward.

It didn’t matter though. As Lance was running his ankle hit the rubbery asphalt a little too hard and he flinched, slowing down and limping. He covered his mouth to keep the cry of pain in and leaned against the railing, letting out a curse as he stopped completely. Keith was laughing, stretching his arms over his head and breathing hard.

“Oh yeah! Hope you like going through a shit ton of back stock cause Shiro ordered way too much shit. You…” He trailed off, looking back at Lance and his expression fell a little bit, expressing concern rather than smugness.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked, running a hand through his hair to get it out of his face and approaching Lance. 

“I’m fine,” Lance said bitterly. “You just got lucky! If it hadn't been for my ankle you’d be the one doing inventory tonight.” He stated confidently, his voice holding a little less bite to it than before.

“Mhmm,” Keith hummed skeptically.

“I said cool down, not have a race,” Shiro sighed, leaning on the railing from the other side. “What am I going to do with you two? You shouldn’t push yourself Lance. Is your ankle okay?” He asked, the picture of a concerned father figure.

“Yeah, just hurts a little. I’ll be fine though,” Lance assured.

“Okay.” Shiro sounded like he didn’t quite believe Lance but he left it at that. Lance was just glad he had the day off today. “Well, the shop opens at nine and I need to go take a shower and open the till. You’re coming in at ten, right Keith?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” He replied. 

“Well I’m just gonna go home and do nothing,” Lance interjected, limping slightly on his ankle as he started taking his leave. 

“Make it home safe!” Shiro called after. Keith rolled his eyes.

Shiro nudged Keith’s arm, giving the man a knowing look. “So…” He let out inquisitively, glancing back at Lance. Keith punched him in the arm.

* * *

 

Lance video chatted with Hunk and Pidge the following night. He told them a little bit about Shiro and Keith, mainly bitching about Keith the entire time and of course leaving out choice details that had to do with a magical nature.

“Sure sounds like you have one hell of a crush on this guy,” Pidgen stated matter-of-factly, tinkering with some hunk of metal in her hands. Lance sputtered.

“He’s insufferable! Of course I don’t have a crush on him!” Lance protested indignantly.

“Right. That’s why you’ve talked about him for like two hours straight.” She quipped, pushing up her glasses as she looked into the camera with an unamused expression.

“You’re about as annoying as he is too.” Lance griped, chewing on his cheek. “Hunk throw in the towel already?” He asked, deciding to change the subject.

“Yeah, not too long ago.”

“I don’t even know what time it is...Oh shit,” Lance said, raising his eyebrows as he looked at his phone. “Dude, it’s like midnight already.”

“Eh. I don’t really have a sleep schedule or a concept of time at this point. I just pass out where ever and when I wake up I keep working on whatever I was drooling on,” Pidge informed, rubbing her eyes.

“That’s totally healthy.”

“Hey, I only have three weeks left to be here. I have to milk this independent study for all it’s worth!” 

“Well at least sleep in your bed tonight.” Lance sighed, yawning. “Speaking of a bed I think I’m gonna call it a night. I have work tomorrow morning.”

“Ok. I’ll call you tomorrow and show you a tech demo of Rover. I tweaked him a lot and he’s flying a lot better.”

“Sounds cool. Seriously though; Sleep in your room.”

“Okay  _ mom, _ ” Pidge laughed, sticking out her tongue. She reached forward, waving goodbye before shutting off her camera. Lance closed his laptop, swiveling in his chair and stuffing his phone in his pocket. Ever since his excursion into the woods he always made sure to have it on him while he slept. He laid down with thoughts of Pidge’s teasing. A crush. No. That was stupid. Lance denied himself, drifting into a deep sleep.

That night he dreamed of the lake. It was a familiar spot for him. A consistent image in his mind. He always went here during the summers. He’d swim, camp, hike- anything really. But in his dreams the lake was different. He’d had this dream many times before. He was always standing at the shore, the waves lapping over the sand. This time it was a bit different though. He actually moved forward, trudging into the water deeper and deeper until it engulfed him.

Lance’s eyes shot open, his body jerking violently awake as he stumbled to the ground. He dug his fingers in Damp earth and torn grass, emerging from his disoriented state. Heart pounding in his chest he took a moment to assess his surrounding. 

_ Fuck.  _ He was in the woods again. Standing up shakily Lance leaned against a tree, his knees ready to give out on him at any moment. Memories flashed in his head of yellow eyes and a growl that made him paralyzed to even think of. All around him was pitch black, the barest outline of other trees the only shape distinguishable in his panic. The summer air, unusually cold and still tepid from the lingering spring bore into his bones far more than a winter chill ever could as fear gripped his heart. Trudging forward Lance had to remind himself to breathe. Just breath, keep breathing and keep moving forward.

Except it wasn’t helping. Lance leaned against another tree, dizzy as he gripped his chest and gently let himself fall against the smooth bark of the white aspen. It dawned on him that he was having a full blown panic attack. Mind racing, he couldn’t help but ask what was he even doing out here? Shouldn’t this kind of behavior be done and over with? He was learning how to control his magic so  _ why _ ? Lance tried to talk some sense into himself, his eyes adjusting better to the low light. There were no monsters. Everything was quiet save for the buzz insects in the night.    


“I’m here…” He breathed out to himself, voice barely above a whisper. He had to ground himself. Start small. Location. Start with location. 

“Forest, I’m in the forest…” Lance shuddered, sucking in another shaky breath and letting it out painfully as he worked around the lump in his throat. “Nothing here. No monster…”

After gaining some semblance of control he lifted his head, taking in his location the best he could and finding a thread of relief.

“I’m by a dirt road!” He let out, sighing. At least that meant he wasn’t  _ completely _ lost. Getting up and keeping his mind focused on getting out of the woods he approached it, the gravel rough on his bare feet. 

“At this rate I’m gonna have to start wearing shoes to bed,” Lance lamented, brushing off the dirt that was smudged on his legs. His attempt at humor was fruitless, even to himself, but it made him feel a little better. He brushed his upper thigh, feeling a weight in his pocket. His heart soared as he pulled out his phone, silently thanking himself for his one shred of good sense.

“Yes!” He let out, unlocking it. He had half his battery life but the lack of service concerned him. Looking both ways down the road Lance sucked in a breath and decided to follow it to the left. It was a little while but eventually he found the barest amount of service. Two bars. Just enough to make a phone call.

Calling Shiro’s phone Lance groaned as it went straight to voicemail. Trying again to no avail Lance bit his lip in despair dialing another number while crossing his fingers.

“Hello?” A cranky voice bit out. Despite his harsh tone Lance couldn’t help but smile in relief.

“Keith! Oh my God-” Lance let out, his voice cracking.

“Lance? Wha...Do you know what time it is? Why the fu-”

“I-I need your help. I’m in the woods again and I don’t know where I am.” He interrupted, his words rushed. There was a pause on the other end of the line. He was afraid Keith had hung up until he heard faint rustling. “Hello?” Lance said, more tentatively this time.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m still here.” Keith said, voice marginally softer. “Do you know where you are?” 

“I found a dirt road that I’ve been walking on for a bit. Uh… There isn’t much else that's noticeable though.” He replied.

“Go ahead and keep walking. See if you can find a sign or a notable landmark or something. I’ll stay on the phone with you.” Keith offered. Despite the fact he couldn’t see him Lance nodded, beginning his trek forward again. Silence stretched between them, Lance wincing as his feet would dig into sharp rocks. He hissed as he hit a sharp one, quickly taking another step forward.

“Are you okay?” Keith asked after a minute.

“Yeah,” Lance answered, sounding unsure of himself. " I'm just freaked out is all considering what happened the last time this happened.” He said, laughing anxiously to try and lighten the mood a bit. As the man continued on he could see where the road met another, a dingy yellow street lamp and an equally dingy blue road sign beckoning to him on the corner.

“Oh, I found another road…” He informed, pace quickening. “It looks like I’m at the intersection of Ross and Aspen?” He said, not recognizing the street name.

“Holy shit.” Keith breathed. Lance heard a door slam in the background. “You’re out that far?” He asked in disbelief.

“Uh, yeah? How far is far exactly?” Lance asked.

“That’s a road that goes out by the lake!”

"Oh…" Lance didn't know what else to say. He felt a pit in his stomach though. How long had he been sleepwalking?

"Just stay there, I'm on my way."

"Well, it’s not like I plan on going anywhere else," Lance joked, stepping on the softer earth beside the road. The grass was cool underneath his feet and a respite from the sharp gravel. Keith was there shorty, pulling up in his little red truck and Lance wasted no time hopping into the passenger seat and buckling up. They turned around, moving down the road. 

“You’re shaking,” Keith commented. Lance hadn’t even really noticed. His mind was reeling, but now that Keith had pointed it out he lifted his hands slightly, tremors running through them uncontrollably.

“You’re a master of observation,” Lance shot back. The sarcasm in his voice was weak as his words cracked. Keith didn’t offer a come back. Lance didn’t know what it was about being in the car driving down the road late at night. He felt emotional. Vulnerable. Like anything he said or did right now wouldn’t matter in the morning and that this would all just be a bad memory. The red light of the blinking traffic lights lit up there faces and Lance glanced at Keith who had an indeterminate expression on his face. It was tense, but not angry. Tired, but not exasperated. It held an edge of softness to it. 

“I don’t know what to do.” Lance finally said, breaking the silence with a voice that didn’t sound like his own. It was small. Frightened. Keith glanced at him, clearly at a loss for what to say and Lance continued.

“It scares me. I don’t know what I’ll do in my sleep. It feels like my body isn’t my own. It feels like I’m possessed.” He choked out, a lump forming in his throat and his hands tightening into fists on his lap. “I don’t want to sleep in that place alone anymore…”

They parked outside of Lance’s apartment complex and Keith turned off the truck, the headlights blinking out and letting the darkness permeate the night again. Keith got out of the truck, going around and opening Lance’s side.

“C’mon. I’ll sleep at your house tonight.” Keith said, ushering Lance out of the vehicle. He didn’t know what to say so he just followed him, finding his front door still locked. They went around the back porch, finding the sliding glass window wide open. They entered Lance’s home, Lance slamming the glass door shut, and staring at it for a second.

The silence continued between both of them and Lance didn’t mind too much. He was too scared to speak, afraid he might break down right then and there. Leading Keith to his room he gathered some extra blankets and pillows.

“Are you going to sleep on the couch?” Lance asked.

“No, I’ll go ahead and sleep right here on the floor,” Keith replied, already making a little pallet out of the plush blankets Lance had an abundance of. Lance swallowed thickly, feeling tears prick the corners of his eyes. 

“Thank you.” He said, voice hoarse. He wrapped his arms around himself and sat on his bed, wiping at his eyes. Keith frowned, taking a step forward and letting a hand fall on Lance’s shoulders. 

“It’s okay. Change out of those clothes, they’re covered in mud.” His voice was level, much softer than Lance had ever heard it and he nodded, sucking in a deep breath and letting out a shaky one. Calm. He had to be calm.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep,” Lance said, digging through his drawers.

“I’ll be right here. If you get up again you’ll have me to make sure you don’t go wandering off.” Keith assured, settling himself down on the floor and pulling the blanket he had up to his chin.

With fresh clothes on Lance settled himself into bed, wrapping the blankets around him tightly like a little cocoon. It took him a while, but knowing that Keith was there put his mind at ease at least a little bit. Eventually he drifted into a fitful sleep.


	7. Insomnia

Panic was not how Lance expected to wake up the following morning. As soon as he regained consciousness he bolted up, fear creeping up his spine as the smell of damp earth and rotting wood permeated his senses. Falling out of bed at six in the morning and getting a bloody nose was also not a great start to his day.

Keith was unrolling a wad of toilet paper as Lance held his hand out, trying to keep the pool of blood from spilling out in between his fingers. His hair stuck in all directions and he looked just as tired as Lance if a bit more irritated as he pressed the wad up against Lance's nose and lead him to the bathroom.

"I'd say good morning but uh…" Lance said, shoving wads of toilet paper up his nose and washing his hands. His voice was nasally.

A small voice in his head added,  _ "and annoying." _ He inwardly flinched at the thought.

Keith grumbled something unintelligible.

"Huh?" Lance said.

"I said I think we're going to open the shop late today." Keith repeated, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Lance felt immediately guilty. It was a feeling he was very familiar with. Standing there while Keith looked like he was ready to murder anything within a mile radius wasn’t helping either. Lance would be the first to admit that seeing Keith get annoyed was a bit funny- the guy would get mad over anything. However; for once, Lance didn’t get any joy out of riling him up. This wasn’t some stupid joke, this was a serious problem that was beginning to affect more than just him.

"Do you want breakfast?" Lance asked, grasping at a way to make it up to Keith. "I'll pay." Food was a fail-safe, right? Apparently, Lance was right on the money. Keith gave an immediate response, nodding.

"Vrepit Sal's?" He asked.

"Yeah, sounds good," Lance replied, feeling a bit lighter and nearly forgetting about the ridiculous amount of toilet paper sticking out of his nose. After getting himself cleaned up and changed into regular clothes him and Keith were off to the homey little restaurant. They sat at a booth, Lance ordering coffee and Keith wrinkling his nose as Lance added an obscene amount of sugar and cream to it. 

“Want a little coffee with all of that?” Keith asked, opting for a cup of tea himself.

“Maybe if the coffee wasn’t sludge here it’d be tolerable,” Lance replied, sipping at his cup and nodding satisfactorily. “I prefer Andi’s Coffee House. They have stuff that's actually good.”

“That place is so expensive though!” Keith exclaimed, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Why would anyone pay six bucks for a cup of coffee?”

“You just have poor taste.” Lance teased, smirking over a mound of whipped cream in his cup.

“Can you even call it coffee?” Keith continued.

Lance simply rolled his eyes, perking up as food was brought to the table. Truth be told sleepwalking left him a lot more hungry than usual.

“So…” Keith let out, swallowing a piece of bacon. “You remember when Shiro and I first found you sleep walking?”

“I try not to,” Lance said with a frown.

“Well, my point is that the next morning you asked if it had something to do with your magic. Do you think it does?” He asked.

Lance mulled over the question. Truth be told he couldn’t give a definitive answer. Thinking about it, it wouldn’t be too far fetched to draw a connection between the two given everything that had gone on in his life recently. Lance knew he had dreams. The problem was that sometimes they would be fuzzy. The shapes would be indistinguishable. He’d grasp at it as consciousness  entered his mind but the more awake he was the further the dream seemed to be. The only thing he really remembered was the menacing yellow eyes that had chased him prior.  _ That _ would never be erased from his mind for as long as he lived.

He also remembered Keith. Clear as day. Lounging. Reading. Sleeping. Well, sometimes. Lance now had the knowledge that Keith was a bit of an insomniac. He’d be up in the early hours of morning, occupying himself with menial tasks. He knew he liked to draw in his free time; Keith used the collection of animal skulls he had as a reference. Sometimes he’d make Shiro breakfast but that was usually when Lance woke up.  Lance gulped his coffee heavily, feeling invasive. He hid his face as heat rose to his cheeks. Pushing the dreams down he wiped his mouth with a napkin, chewing on his bottom lip.

“I’m not sure. It could be.” He finally replied, conflicted. “I just don’t know where I’m going, but it always feels like I need to be somewhere.” 

“Maybe we should do a sleep study?” Keith suggested. That had Lance raising his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean ‘what do I mean?”

“You’re just gonna watch me sleep? That’s creepy!”

“Wha- No! Well yes- I mean-” Keith groaned. “It’s to make sure you don’t hurt yourself while you sleep walk dumbass!” 

“But I don’t want to sleep walk!” Lance lamented. 

“Well then how are we supposed to figure out where your subconscious wants you to go?” 

Lance pensively stuffed a piece of pancake into his mouth, unwilling to admit defeat. Keith just snorted, shaking his head. 

“So my place or yours?” Lance asked flirtatiously, deciding to try and lighten the mood. He then laughed at the blush that crossed Keith’s face.

“No really, do you want me to sleep at my apartment or your house?”

“U-Um, I don’t know… Maybe mine?” He asked. Lance raised an eyebrow. It had the desired effect. A flustered Keith was entertaining. It was a whole new avenue of humor for Lance and he didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it sooner.

“It’s just that you seem to want to keep wandering into the woods! Maybe whatever you’re 

‘Looking’ for could be closer!” Keith stated defensively, eyebrows knitted into a scowl. It was endearing, actually. 

Lance was caught off guard by the fact he thought it was cute. He interrupted the thought, pushing it into the deep recesses of his mind. Now wasn’t the time to be developing crushes, especially  _ now.  _ Somewhere in another state entirely Pidge was probably feeling a sense of unexplained smugness.

“Fine, fine. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Lance conceded, laughing. 

“So...do you like to read?” He said after a beat of silence. He remembered Keith reading frequently in is dreams. It was a better topic to bring up for Lance, he could only handle so much magic talk.

“Uh, yeah…” Keith replied, taking a sip of his tea. That was how their conversation developed into something more casual throughout the entirety of breakfast. It was normal. Welcomed. And if Lance was being honest, he was happy to finally get to know Keith a little more outside of their unfortunate encounters. Even if he already knew a little more than he should. Work was relatively painless. There was less bickering than usual, a testament to their hardship the following night. They were both too exhausted to get under each other's skin.

When Shiro returned from his trip Keith and Lance filled him in on the details of their late night excursion and their plan. He seemed concerned by the new development and as they sat around the kitchen table he looked thoughtfully into his mug of tea.

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea, but I want to make sure your safe Lance,” Shiro stated. “And I don’t mean just physically. It seems like this is something that could affect your mental health.”

Lance pouted at the table. Truth be told, he didn’t want to talk about his sleepwalking. Wasn’t it enough that Keith and him had come up with a solution? Besides, it was  _ already _ affecting his mental health. At this point he was under the impression that would never change. It was just a fact of life now. 

“Pretty badly. How long has this even gone on?” Shiro asked.

Lance shrugged. “I dunno. I did it a lot when I was a kid and it’s just kind of popped up again.” He stated begrudgingly. Lance knew Shiro was only concerned but he still couldn’t help but feel it was condescending. He could handle himself. He was an adult.

Lance sighed, leaning forward and waving his hand dismissively. “Look, I can handle this. I feel better knowing that I’ll have someone here to make sure I don't fall off a cliff or something.” 

_ “Or be slaughtered by some monster.’  _ He thought to himself. Shiro looked at him dubiously but nodded in defeat. 

“Alright. Do you want me to cut your hours at the shop? You look a little worse for wear after a night of, I assume, little sleep.” 

“No, it’s fine. I still have rent to make!” Lance stated, giving a little laugh and a smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Fair point,” Shiro said. “Well, I guess that's that. I’ll help Keith keep an eye on you.”

“It’s fine. We can just put a charm on him.” Keith stated. “It’ll just alert me if you open the front or back door. Like a little alarm.” He explained to Lance. It seemed simple enough even if he felt a bit bad he’d be waking Keith. 

The only thing left to do was go get his stuff. They collectively agreed about a week would probably suffice for a sleep study. Truth be told he stalled a bit. Visiting his parents gave Lance some time to just resume the sense of normalcy. He had dinner. He joked with his brother and he’d even sat down with his mom to watch one of her cheesy soap operas that he’d never admit he got slightly invested in.

It was when he was sitting on the couch during a commercial that his mother lingered, a look of worry on her face as she put a hand on Lance’s knee and looked into his eyes. 

“ _ Mijo _ , is everything okay?” She asked.

Lance was caught a bit off guard but he smiled encouragingly. He was used to her doting and worrying over every little thing, but he’d be damned if he didn’t admit she was preceptive. 

“Yeah Mama, everything is fine.” 

“Are you sure? Hows the apartment? Are you getting enough sleep?” She pressed, clearly unconvinced. Ah. So this is what her worry was about. Lance could do without everybody inadvertently pointing out he looked like shit.

“It’s okay. The apartment is just quieter than I’m used to.” He answered, not entirely lying. 

“You know you always have a room here sweetheart.” 

“I know.” Lance gave another terse smile, patting his mother's hand to comfort her. “I’m okay though. Really. Just a little tired.” 

They resumed watching TV but it wasn’t long until Lance had to leave. He made it back to his apartment and packed a bag complete with pajamas, favorite blanket, skin routine, and all. He was confused when Keith thought it was too much. 

“I didn’t know you were moving in with us.” He said as Lance slid a backpack off his shoulders and put his overly stuffed duffel bag on the couch he’d be sleeping on.

“What? I can bring more if you’d like?” He shot back. Keith rolled his eyes.

“There's some food in the fridge if you haven’t eaten anything.”

“Oh, I ate at my ma’s house. Thanks though.” A beat passed. “I actually think I’ll try to sleep, I’m pretty tired.” 

Keith shrugged. “Okay. I’ll be in my room if you need anything. I stay up pretty late so don’t feel like you’re bothering me.” He said. Lance resisted the urge to say, ‘ _ I know,’  _ because realistically he  _ shouldn’t _ know. 

“Thanks,” he settled with instead. The lights were turned off and Lance settled onto the ouch, the old springs creaking underneath him in protest as he readjusted and the cushions hugging his body close. It wasn’t that bad. Probably one of the more comfortable couches he’d slept on. 

And then he tried to sleep. And tried and tried and tried. Tossing and turning on the cushions that started to feel like they were swallowing him up more than anything. The worst part is that every time he felt like he was finally drifting off he’d jerk away again, every aspect of the forest permeating his senses again, the fear spreading throughout his chest like an infection. He’d be back at square one again. 

Eventually, Lance just gave up. He didn’t think he could handle another scare. Every time he was jarred awake he was back in that terrifying chase with the mysterious monster. Pulling out his phone and browsing random apps and pages, he knew that sleep deprivation was an infinitely better fate then being confronted with his night terrors again and the fear and bone tired exhaustion that came with them.

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty! So this is my first fanfiction in a while! I don't think there's enough magic AU's for this series, so here's a treat for those of you who like it!


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